


Heat of the Moment

by GreyscaleCourtier



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Desperation, Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, Hunk has been Pining, Intoxication, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poisoning, Sex Pollen, Something Made Them Do It, petting alien wildlife does not go well for anyone in this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 14:48:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8756821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyscaleCourtier/pseuds/GreyscaleCourtier
Summary: Lance gets stung by a venomous creature on an alien planet. The symptoms are... unusual, to say the least.





	

**Author's Note:**

> kinda dubcon-y. mind the tags.

Lance watches the snail crawl.

It’s not like it’s doing anything particularly interesting. It’s not even a snail, really; some slimy crawling thing under a slightly larger shell-thing, sliding slowly across a branch leaving a shiny trail in its wake. Mostly, Lance is waiting for everyone else to catch up.

“…TOLD you we should have taken their offer of some supplies,” he can hear Coran saying fretfully somewhere on the path behind him. “The Castle’s stocks are by no means limitless.”

“True.” That’s Allura, even fainter. Could they literally walk any slower. “But the Barxeners have it hard enough. We can get by without taking food they desperately need to keep.”

The snail pauses, then painstakingly turns around and begins to crawl the other way.

Lance pokes idly at the slime trail, unreasonably irritated. Why is this stupid snail turning around? There’s nothing interesting that way, little dude. You were just there.

“Be that as it may,” Coran starts just as he and Allura come into view around the bend, then stops. “Lance,” he says in an overly cautious tone, “leave that alone.”

“It’s a snail, Coran.” Lance turns just so Coran can see him roll his eyes. “We had these on Earth.”

“Not a Barxen Snail, you haven’t,” Allura puts in. “Get away from that.”

A sharp spasm of pain, then a rush of heat shoots into Lance’s hand. He gasps at the sudden sting and jerks away from the branch just in time to see the snail retract something long and sharp into its shell.

“Lance!” Allura bolts forward, dragging him away from the tree. “Let me see! Did it get you?”

Another wave of heat rushes up Lance’s arm, followed by an equally strong wave of dizziness. “I… thhhhink?” He holds up his hand to try and inspect it, but somehow ends up half-collapsed in Coran’s hands instead. “Oh.”

“It stung him.” Allura lets Lance’s hand go. Shit, when did she start holding it? He should have savored the moment. “Get him back.”

“Stung,” Lance repeats. His mouth won’t move right. It comes out slurred. “Ssstung?”

“Got him.” Coran slings Lance’s good arm around his shoulder to bear most of his weight. “Go find the other paladins.”

Paladins, he knows that word. It means Hunk and Keith and Pidge and Shiro. That’s good. He likes them.

Another wave of heat pulses in his blood, this time everywhere. When it fades he’s being carried into the cryo chamber in the Castle. That was fast. He thought they were a lot farther.

Coran sets him rather unceremoniously on the floor by a pod and starts fiddling with the console. Allura appears in the doorway with the others trailing behind. Friends. Lance hums happily to see them.

“He’s not convulsing yet, that’s a good sign.” Allura goes straight to the console and peers over Coran’s shoulder.

“No convulsions. In fact, nothing at all except the fainting. None of the usual symptoms.” Coran frowns at the Altean glyphs. “No swelling of the site, no bleeding from the nose, or anywhere, for that matter. It was definitely a Barxen Snail, wasn’t it?”

“Perhaps the venom acts differently with human physiology?” Allura suggests, but then Shiro puts a hand on Lance’s shoulder and he stops paying attention to Allura.

“Lance, you okay?” Shiro sounds worried, unhappy. The heat from his Galra arm feels wonderful, sending tingles up and down Lance’s arm.

“Okay,” Lance repeats. His mouth seems to cooperate now, words coming out a little less slurred. “Shiro.”

Shiro’s eyebrows stay pulled together in a concerned knot. “Lance, do you know where you are?”

“Castle.” With less effort than it felt like it should take, Lance shoves himself up to sitting. He spots Hunk hovering behind Shiro, looking infinitely more concerned. “Hunk.”

Hunk nudges past Shiro and kneels by Lance’s side. “Hey, buddy, hang in there. And stop trying to pet random alien wildlife, please.”

“Pet?” Touching something warm and living sounds heavenly right now, especially as, Lance notes with dismay, Shiro has withdrawn his hand. “Pet, Hunk.”

“Yeah, okay, stop trying to talk, you’re not making sense.”

Pidge pops up from somewhere. “His pupils are crazy dilated,” she announces matter-of-factly. “Is that normal?”

“None of this is normal,” Allura says, crossing the room again to inspect Lance’s eyes. “We’ve never seen symptoms like this. This is not how Barxen Snail venom behaves on Altean lifeforms.”

“So just put him in a pod,” Keith suggests. He hasn’t moved from the doorway. His eyes are so dark, even from this far away. “Get the venom out.”

“Keith’s right,” Shiro says. “Even if it’s not showing the usual signs, it can’t be good for him.”

Lance hums and leans against Hunk’s shoulder. The heat makes him shiver.

“Lance?”

“Mmm.” He nuzzles Hunk and let’s his eyes drift shut.

“Lance, hey, look at me.” Shiro’s voice cuts through the fog, and a moment later a warm metal hand takes his chin and tilts his face up. Displeased at the loss of Hunk’s body heat, Lance opens his eyes again to meet Shiro’s. “Lance, tell me what’s going on.”

Lance mulls that over for a bit, distracted by the heat of Shiro’s hand on his face. “Wwwaarm,” he finally manages. “Want.”

“Are you cold?”

“Nah. Want.”

In the background, Coran and Allura trade confused looks.

“Okay, what do you want?” Shiro asks, patient as ever.

The word want conjures up images that flash by too quickly for him to describe – Allura’s hair twined in his fingers – raking his nails down Coran’s chest, leaving vivid red tracks – Keith’s hair plastered to his face with sweat, panting for breath – Pidge’s bright brown eyes glinting from on top of him as she gasps his name – Hunk’s warm soft mouth sliding over his, tongue lazily dipping between his lips so hot so wet – Shiro’s hand tight around his cock as he moans in Lance’s ear –

Lance whines needily and shuts his eyes again as the heat pulses through him again, less pleasurable, more insistent, turning from a warm wave into a demanding throb between his legs.

“Shiro?” Hunk’s voice is strained. “I think, that’s, uh, we found a symptom.”

“Lance, are you in pain–” Shiro starts to ask.

“No, no, not that, the uh.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Oh.” Shiro’s hand disappears from Lance’s face. He opens his eyes to be indignant about it.

“Isolate him,” Allura says before he can start. “Someone needs to stay with him to see if he has any more… symptoms… but perhaps he’ll ride out the poison on his own.” She rubs her forehead, or maybe she’s just shielding her eyes.

“Oh my god,” Keith says, backing out of the door. “Not me.”

“I’ll take him,” Hunk says, and Lance can’t quite remember what the question was but he’s pretty sure “him” means him and that means Hunk stays. He sighs dreamily and leans back against Hunk’s shoulder.

“Are you sure?” Shiro says. “I can handle him, you don’t need to… deal with this.”

“I dealt with him wasted at prom, this is nothing I’m not kinda used to.”

Prom was fun. Lance remembers parts of it through the haze. Not enough girls at the Garrison, but still fun. He wants to dance with Hunk like that again. It had been so warm.

“If you’re sure?” Shiro looks skeptical, but also relieved.

“Yeah. I’ll call Coran if anything changes.”

Hunk pulls Lance upright. Lance purrs.

~

“Kiss me.”

“For the tenth time. No. You’re stoned out of your mind on alien snail poison. You’re lucky you’re not dying.”

“Am dying.” Lance pouts, but Hunk won’t look at him, and the pout is wasted.

“You’re not. You’ll be fine.”

“Feels like dying.” It does. The throbbing heat won’t go away, and the more Lance twists in his bunk, the more insistent the pressure builds. He pulls fruitlessly at his shirt.

“No, no. Stop that.” Hunk’s hands swat his away.

“Hurts,” Lance whines.

“It does?” Hunk leans down to peer anxiously at Lance. “Or are you just making things up to get your clothes off?”

Lance rolls his hips, grinding uselessly against air. His cock aches. “Hurts,” he repeats.

“I’m going to regret this.” Hunk releases his wrists. “You’re going to regret this too, when you’re sober again. This is going on the list of reasons you’re lucky to have me.”

“Lucky to have you.” Lance pauses in pulling his shirt off. “Love you.”

An unmistakable flush creeps up Hunk’s neck. “No, you’re just saying that because, again, you’re poisoned with alien snail sex venom.”

Lance’s hands refuse to cooperate, but he manages to wrestle the shirt all the way off. He can feel Hunk’s body heat radiating through the room. God, what he would give to have Hunk lie here next to him.

“’m cold.”

“Yeah, dumbass, put your shirt back on.”

“Want you.” Lance braces against another wave of sharp, needy heat. It rolls down his spine, blooming in his arms, clenching his fists, curling his toes. He gasps at the sudden abrasiveness of even the soft Altean fabric on his skin. “Want you.”

“Lance?”

Lance whimpers, overstimulated and reeling, as the wave doesn’t fade like the others did. It rolls through him again, throbbing in his cock, sending his head spinning and his hands shaking. He needs something and can’t remember what.

“Lance. Talk to me, what’s wrong?”

“Need you,” Lance pants. “N-need. I need you.”

“I’m here, see? I’m right here.”

Lance shivers even as sweat trickles down his neck. He gropes blindly until Hunk’s hand finds his, warm and solid even as the rest of the universe spins around him.

“I need you,” he gasps again, then pulls, hard, dragging Hunk down to his level and pressing his lips to anything he can reach.

And Hunk doesn’t pull away.

He makes a sound like defeat and relief and sex all rolled into one and then his hands come up to steady Lance’s face and his lips meet Lance’s chapped and quivering ones like water in the desert. His body is all heat and electric and alive against Lance’s bare chest and he kisses him until Lance can hardly breathe with the pounding in his chest. Lance parts his lips to gasp for air and the moment he does, Hunk is pulling at the rest of his clothes, quick and efficient, until Lance lays naked in the bunk beneath him.

Lance moans, far too loudly, as Hunk’s hands strip the fabric away from his oversensitive skin and brush against his aching cock. He arches his back, desperate for more touch. “Pl…ease…” he gasps, incoherent with need, “please, I can’t, I need, I…”

Hunk leans back down and shuts him up with a deep kiss. “Shhh,” he murmurs into Lance’s mouth. “I’m here.”

Warm, gentle fingers wrap around his cock and Lance gasps at the touch, rolling his hips into it, his blood burning like molten gold with every frantic heartbeat. Hunk is everywhere; he’s all warm hands and soft lips and hot breath and alive, alive, vibrant as the sun burning white-hot in Lance’s chest.

His breath hitches as he spills over Hunk’s hand and his own stomach, the rolling wave of heat coming to a crest and then finally, finally breaking. He moans and shivers, suddenly cold and drenched in sweat.

Hunk hushes him, kissing along his jaw, whispering gentle words against his throat.

Safe and warm, the insistent heat gone, Lance finally slips under.

~

It feels like years later later that he wakes, sticky with half-dried sweat and sorer than he’d ever been at the Garrison, to someone banging on the door.

“Hunk?” Shiro’s voice drifts through. “Is everything okay?”

Lance blinks, foggy details from the day before coming in bits and pieces. He lifts his hand into the faint light coming from under the door, ignoring the screams of protest from his abused muscles, to see a faint pink puncture just below his thumb.

The rest of the details click into place. Lance jerks upright. Hunk snores softly from a kitchen chair as far across the room as he could possibly be. Lance is back in his rumpled clothes from the day before, but the film of sweat and cum under them leaves no room for doubt.

That actually happened, he realizes in a daze.

Now what?

The most pressing issue is Shiro at the door, so Lance stumbles to his feet, rides out the intense head rush, and palms the door open, squinting in the light.

“Lance?” Shiro sets both hands on his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

Lance shrugs Shiro’s hands off. “I feel like I got hit by a truck,” he says.

“That’s actually a good sign. Plus your pupils are back to normal reactivity. Is Hunk still there?”

Lance steps aside to show Shiro. “I think I slept through most of it,” he lies. “I don’t actually remember much.”

Shiro looks him up and down, his relief poorly disguised. “What, uh, do you remember?”

“Getting stung. Passing out on Coran, the cryo chamber, seeing you, then…” Lance shrugs again. “Nothing.”

“That’s probably for the best. Do you think you can eat something?”

Lance makes a face. “Maybe?”

Shiro gives him a tentative smile. “Okay. Come on. Everyone was worried about you.”

Lance returns the careful smile and follows Shiro out into the hall. As Hunk’s soft snores fade behind him, Lance thinks he’ll keep his I-don’t-remember story. For a while at least.

After all, it probably didn’t mean anything to Hunk, either.

**Author's Note:**

> update: fine I caved there will be a chapter 2 soon


End file.
